Every year since we have had children, when Father’s Day comes, the kids and I scramble to surprise my husband with a grand celebration. Our good intentions never seem to payoff though. I guess our poor planning contributes to our failure to do something fantastic. So we usually end up just going out to eat at some smoky diner in Northwest Indiana where we are guaranteed an immediate seat.
Our lack of a successful celebration is not because we don’t love him. It usually boils down to my inability to make a decision in a timely manner on what to do. The kids offer a litany of ideas ranging from breakfast in bed to out of town trips, all of which seem so lame.
Don’t’ get me wrong on this one. I really love my husband. He is such a great father that I want to do something spectacular and simple ideas just don’t seem to fit the bill. When the kids were born, Kevin jumped right in to care for and protect them. He never shied away from changing diapers, going on school field trips or showing his fear of leaving them at daycare.
Some could read his actions are being overly protective. When Kyli was 7 years old, she went with very close friends to see a White Sox baseball game. Before she left home, my husband had carved out a wooden identification tag for Kyli to wear around her neck. In the event that she got lost, she would be able to pull out the tag that hung around her neck and tell someone to call the number listed, Kevin’s number of course!
He is constantly looking for ways to make us all comfortable. In our small modest home, he relentlessly expresses his passion for the creative by building, painting, decorating, fixing, fluffing up and arranging. He has ideas coming out of his ears! And sometimes I just have to tell him to stop. “Let’s just enjoy your latest work of art before moving on to the next project,” I beg.
This year is no different than any year’s past. Here we are, at the last moment, wondering what to do. I suggested to the kids that we write a poem, something that we all work on to add our own flair and words of love. Buddy said he only wrote poems at school by cutting out words that his teacher had given him to paste on construction paper, and that since school is now dismissed for the summer, he doesn’t know how to do that.
I couldn’t get Kyli to put her iPhone down long enough to give me a response. So I sent her a text. She texted back, “Whatever you want to do for dad is fine with me. Emoticon, emoticon, blah blah blah.”
Okay… So, here we are again. This time I just asked.
“Honey, is there anything you want to do for Father’s Day,” I ask Kevin.
“Yeah. Can you all help me clean out the garage,” Kevin asks.
I look at him dumbfounded. “Huh, really?”
And in my husband’s wonderful way, he puts on a handsome smile and says, “I just want to be with my family.”
Now that is something I can appreciate. Happy Father’s Day honey!
So it goes…